


Mirror Call

by Evandar



Series: Daily Deviant Fics [10]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Badly Negotiated Polyamory, Bisexual James Potter, Bisexual Sirius Black, Communication Mirrors, Cuckolding, Cunnilingus, Masturbation, Multi, Resolved Sexual Tension, Size Kink, Vaginal Sex, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-03
Updated: 2020-11-03
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:55:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27370810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evandar/pseuds/Evandar
Summary: “Hello, Prongs,” Sirius says. “As you can see, we finally decided to cooperate with that ‘Operation: Convince Lily and Pads to Get Along’ scheme of yours.”Or, when James is posted on a long assignment, Lily and Sirius finally come to an accord.
Relationships: James Potter/Lily Evans Potter, Sirius Black/James Potter, Sirius Black/James Potter/Lily Evans Potter, Sirius Black/Lily Evans Potter
Series: Daily Deviant Fics [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1238762
Comments: 12
Kudos: 150





	Mirror Call

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Daily Deviant's October prompt: mirrors

The mirror glows, James’ voice calling out. Between her legs, Sirius freezes. Lily props herself up on an elbow, looking down at him. His mouth is red and wet, her juices smeared through the stubble on his lip and chin. It’s a good look on him, and she reaches out a hand to trace her thumb across his lower lip.

“Lily-flower, darling?” calls the mirror.

Sirius raises an eyebrow. “Going to answer that?” he asks. 

Lily _wants_ to ignore it. Her clit is throbbing with every beat of her heart. She’s _soaking_ , and Sirius – the wanker – had punctuated that sentence with a flex of his fingers inside of her. But. It’s _James_. Her husband, the world’s most persistent git. She’d made the mistake of ignoring one of his calls in favour of a potion once. He’d rang back thirty-two times before she’d given in out of sheer frustration, the cauldron had blown up, and she’d ended up having to scrub stewed doxie eggs off the rafters – _and_ out of her hair.

She groans, and shoves Sirius’ head back down towards her cunt before reaching out to the bedside table. He laughs, of course, the _bastard_ , but returns to his prior task willingly enough – licking and sucking and thrusting his fingers deep. She lets herself fall back against the pillows as she answers James’ call, holding the mirror in front of her face with one hand and sliding the other down to tangle in Sirius’ long hair. He moans appreciatively, but it’s lost under the enthusiasm of James’ greeting.

She’s missed him, really. Now that James has grown up a bit from the bullying arse he’d been as a teenager, it’s a bit like being married to a Labrador. Unconditional love; goofy, devoted smiles; boundless enthusiasm. But he’s been on assignment for the last month with minimum contact, and…well.

Usually, James is between her and Sirius. A buffer between their more volatile personalities as well as a physical presence in whichever bed he picks for the night. She’s James’ wife, and Sirius is James’ best friend/boyfriend/soulmate/whatever, and it’s something she and Sirius have learned to live with because they know fine well that James adores both of them. In his absence, though, the tension has been building for weeks. Frustration and loneliness and that awful, guilty sort of jealousy that’s always existed between them. There’s been snarled insults and sullen silences, lingering glances and barely-there touches. They’d snapped ten minutes ago, mid-argument: Sirius launching himself at her while she called him a “stuck-up, pureblood twat,” shoving her up against the kitchen counter and kissing her hard while she hooked her legs around his hips and clawed at his shoulders.

He’d fucking _carried_ her up the stairs – resoundingly unfair since he’s the shortest of the lot of them – thrown her on the bed she sometimes shares with her husband and, well.

Well, she’d been hoping for some rough, glorious sex to take the edge off while they kept waiting for James to come home. 

She scratches her nails across Sirius’ scalp. “Hello, love,” she says.

James beams at her. “Looking a bit flushed there, Lils,” he says. “Having fun?”

Sirius presses a third finger into her, stretching her wider, and turns his head to nip at her inner thigh. Her breath hitches. “Oh,” she says, though it comes out as a moan. “Yes, actually.”

“Fuck,” he breathes. 

Sirius starts giving her a hickey, and she tugs roughly at his hair, trying to get his mouth back where she needs it. She’s close, and the thought of James watching as his boyfriend makes her come is…heady. She chances a look down. Sirius smirks back at her and nods, before shifting his attention to her other thigh and biting a matching bruise into her skin. She whines.

“Are you alone, love?” she asks. James nods. “Do – ah! – do you want to see?” He nods again, more eagerly this time. She watches him relax, settle in for the show. She can’t see, but she gets the impression that he’s sitting – that he’s opened his robes to touch himself.

She stretches out her arm, holding the mirror as far away from her as she can, angling it slightly so that she can see the look on James’ face as he takes in the sight of her: full breasts bare, her legs held wide. Sirius’ face between her thighs. She watches his eyes widen. Sees his lips part as he swallows.

Sirius draws back, shifting so that he can look up into the mirror. Looking down at him, she can see the arrogant curl of his mouth as well as the vulnerability in his eyes. “Hello, Prongs,” he says. “As you can see, we finally decided to cooperate with that ‘Operation: Convince Lily and Pads to Get Along’ scheme of yours.”

“I -,” James stammers. “I see it’s working?”

Lily snorts. “It’ll work a lot better if this twat _gets me off_ ,” she hisses.

Both of them laugh, because both of them are arseholes and neither of them are wet and aching and _fuck_. 

“Go on, Padfoot,” James says. His voice is soft and low and _ugh_. He usually only ever sounds like that when he’s balls deep in one of them. “Show her how good you are with your tongue.”

Sirius slips back down her body and finally, _finally_ returns his mouth to where it belongs, sealing his lips around her clit and suckling. Her back arches, her cry of pleasure punched out of her. Sirius groans against her, and the vibrations seem to coil in her gut; hot and tight. She pants, looking up into the mirror, into her husband’s eyes, as she writhes.

“I feel like – like we’d have got here a lot faster if – oh, fuck – if you’d told me – ah! – he’s so good, James.” She cuts off, tilting her head back and crying out as Sirius shifts slightly. He’s still sucking on her clit, but he’s changed pace with his fingers. Instead of the slow, stretching, languid thrusts of earlier, he’s moving faster – fucking her hard and deep and perfect.

When she opens her eyes, she can see James’ arm moving as he wanks himself off to the sight of them. His eyes are hooded, his gaze fixed. It occurs to her that he can _hear_ it, how wet she is; the slopping sound of Sirius’ fingers inside of her. Her belly clenches. Heat spirals up from Sirius’ tongue, up through her abdomen, over her breasts. She _wails_ \- some incoherent mix of James’ name and Sirius’.

Sirius teases her through it, leaving her aching and satisfied when he finally draws back. He plucks the mirror from her lax fingers and she watches him as he sits up and, with James watching, sucks his fingers into his red, wet mouth.

She hears James groan. “Fuck, that’s hot.” She grins lazily – she kind of has to agree. Sirius is _definitely_ hot, sitting there still in his jeans with his tattoos all on show and scratches from her nails on his shoulders. He’s hard, too – she can see it through the tight denim – and even though she’d only been planning on returning the favour and using her mouth and her hands on him, she very much wants him inside of her.

She’s walked in on him fucking James before. She knows how big he is, knows that it’s going to be a stretch. But. She’s blissfully sore and aching and empty and she wants _more_. And she wants James to watch them.

She shifts. Sits up, then moves so that she’s kneeling by Sirius’ side. She kisses his neck as she peers at James in the mirror. James’ lips are bitten red – he’s trying to be quiet, for some reason. He looks between them, hand still moving. Poor darling hasn’t come yet. _Neither_ of her boys have.

~~Oh, bloody hell, when did Sirius become hers as well?~~

Poor babies.

She slips her hand into Sirius’ lap and fumbles with his zipper, drawing it down carefully and slipping her hand inside. He hisses when she touches him – a short, sharp sound that’s followed by a groan echoed by one in the mirror. He’s not wearing underwear, and so she’s careful as she guides him out of his jeans. She strokes him, still watching James – at least, she watches him until Sirius turns his head towards her and kisses her. Then, she lets her eyes flutter shut, sucking his tongue into her mouth and tasting herself on him. She squeezes him, rubs her thumb over his slit in a way that she knows James likes. 

Judging from the growl and the way his hand slips back between her legs, it works on Sirius too.

By the time their kiss breaks, she’s panting, pressing down on Sirius’ fingers as he rubs her. She feels swollen and almost too wet for any friction, but it’s good. So, so good.

“Want to fuck me?” she asks.

“Fuck,” James says from the mirror. “Do it. Want to see.”

Sirius’ grin is a little crooked; a little softer than it usually is when aimed at her. “Yeah,” he breathes. “Yeah, alright.” He kisses her again – just a light press of lips against the corner of her mouth. “How do you want me?”

The question’s half aimed at James, but Lily doesn’t give her husband a chance to answer before she turns her back on them both. She positions herself on her knees and her elbows; arches her back and fucking presents herself like a bitch in heat. Like this, it won’t matter which of them holds the mirror: James will get a show.

She grins when she hears both of them whimper.

“Yeah, that works,” Sirius says. “One second.”

She glances back over her shoulder and watches as he drops the mirror to the mattress and stands up, shucking his jeans quickly and revealing the lines of runic tattoos that spiral around his thighs down to mid-calf. She’d asked about them once; received a vague response about Dark magic and family tradition. She’d dropped it, not really caring much at the time, but now she wants to follow the path of them with her tongue.

The bed dips as he climbs back on behind her. He picks the mirror back up and turns it so that James can see her upturned arse and her face – no doubt flushed red and sweaty – peering at them over one, freckled shoulder. She smiles at her husband. He grins back.

“You’re both so _pretty_ ,” he sighs. “I’m so lucky.”

Yep, she is married to a Labrador.

“Damn right, you are,” Sirius tells him. His fingers ghost over her cunt, making her shiver. “When you get back, maybe we’ll show you how lucky, hm? Would you like that? Want me to fuck your arse as you fuck her? Or do you think sweet Lily-flower would let us share her?”

He glances up at her face, one eyebrow raised in question. Not just dirty-talk, then. She tries to imagine it, taking them both. How full she would be, how stretched; the wet sounds of them kissing next to her ear. She moans. “Yes, that,” she says. “Ple-ease.”

Her voice breaks as Sirius presses the tip of his cock against her, letting her feel the size of it. She gasps, letting her head fall forwards as he presses in. Suddenly, the idea of having both her boys at once seems a little ambitious, because holy _fuck_. It’s just the head. Just the head and she’s _shaking_.

How the hell does James take this all the time?

She can hear James talking. Soft cooing sounds as Sirius keeps pressing in, inch by inch. He’s praising her, telling her she’s doing so well. Sirius is cursing softly under his breath. One of his hands is splayed across the base of her spine, holding her steady as he presses in and in and in until she thinks she’s going to die from it. 

When he stops, she can feel the jut of his hips pressing up against her arse. She breathes slowly, adjusting, and he lets her, rubbing her back gently. “You alright, Lils?” he asks.

She looks back at him. At the gentle, almost concerned look on his face. She can’t see James. Sirius is holding the mirror so that James can only see where they join. He’s going to watch Sirius fuck her with that ridiculous, wonderful cock of his, and not see the tears clinging to her lashes as she takes it.

Fuck, but she’s loving this. 

She nods. She takes a deep, slow breath and arches her back further, rotating her hips and grinding back on him. The concern vanishes from Sirius’ expression as if it never existed, replaced by hunger. He begins to move. Slow, short thrusts that hit deep inside of her. She grins over her shoulder even as she starts moving with him, fucking herself on his glorious cock. She can hear James’ voice, hear the admiration in his tone as he tells her how good she looks stretched out like this. 

She tries to answer him, tries to tell him how good it feels, how much she loves it, but she can’t. Sirius starts moving faster, and all she can do is make soft gasps, bitten-off _ah ah ah_ noises, as his thrusts start to lengthen. 

It stops suddenly. She gasps for breath as Sirius grinds slow and deep inside of her. She feels him lean down, stretching out over her back. He kisses her shoulder even as his arm curls around her, showing her face to James in the mirror.

James looks flushed. He’s propped his mirror up somewhere, showing more of the nondescript hotel room he’s been assigned. His robes are gone, slung off somewhere to the side, no doubt. He’s slouched in a chair, one leg bent up towards his chest and his hand fisted round his cock. She licks her lips.

She wants him. She wants her James – their James. Wants him here, with them. Sirius is good – incredible, even – but she wants what Sirius was talking about before. The three of them tangled up together, instead of two of them sloping off together at a time: her riding Sirius’ cock while James fucks his throat; James eating her out while Sirius thrusts into him from behind; the two of them splitting her open, one in her arse and one in her cunt, filling her up while she cries and mewls and begs for more.

She wants to peg James with his favourite dildo while he chokes on Sirius’ cock.

Of course, she can’t help but want other things too. Softer, more nebulous things that are hard to think of when there’s a dick inside of her and her gorgeous husband is putting on a show for them. She wants the guilt to stop; wants to stop feeling like a third wheel when it’s Sirius’ turn. She wants to _get along_ with Sirius – not just for domestic harmony, but because James loves him, and she wants the two of them to be happy as much as she wants it for herself. She wants the two bedrooms bullshit to stop. She wants to scandalise society by raising kids with hyphenated surnames and a question mark hanging over their biological parentage. 

“You okay, Lily?” James asks.

She nods. Smiles at him. Opens her mouth to joke about finally seeing what James sees in Sirius after all. Stops. That can wait, maybe, until things are a little less volatile. 

“He’s so big, Jamie,” she tells him instead. “Feels so good.”

One of Sirius’ hands slides down her side, over her belly. He presses two fingertips to her clit and she sobs. It’s so much. Almost too much. Sirius kisses her shoulder as he starts to stroke her. She whines. He’s still grinding into her, but she wants more. Wants him to fuck her until she’s screaming from it. Wants him to – 

“I want –,” she chokes out. “Fuck, Sirius, want you to come inside me.”

They both groan at that. Sirius, she thinks, gives James some sort of questioning look because James nods. “Yeah,” he says. “Oh, fuck, yes.”

She twists. It’s awkward, since he’s shorter than her, but she manages to crane her neck far enough to kiss him. It’s open-mouthed and sloppy, punctuated with a moan as he pinches her clit between his fingers.

She has to brace herself against the headboard after that, the mirror still in one hand – angled so that James can see both of them. Behind her, Sirius is fucking her hard and fast, just like she needed. He keeps one hand on her hip to hold her steady; the other, he doesn’t seem to know what to do with: it moves between her clit and her chest, pinching and twisting at her nipples, and her mouth. She meets James’ gaze as she moans around fingers dripping with her own arousal. She’s smeared with it: can feel it drying sticky on her lips and belly and her breasts; can feel it running down her thighs. 

In the mirror, James is flushed and panting. He’s fucking up into his fist, twisting his hand over the head of his prick. His other hand is lower, teasing his arse and his balls. He’s so _pretty_ \- wanton and open for them. She can’t see Sirius, as the mirror only lets her see James, but she can hear him. Hear the soft oaths and the praise; hear the slap of his skin on hers and the wet, slick sound of him moving inside of her.

When, on the other side of the mirror, James tips his head back and comes all over his chest and his fist, Sirius drags his fingers free of her mouth and returns them to her clit. He rubs her hard and fast as she watches James recover; heat coils in her belly. Sirius’ hips are stuttering. She can feel his cock swelling impossibly inside of her. She watches James drag his fingers through his own come and raise them to his lips, and with a flick of Sirius’ wrist, she’s coming for a second time. 

She’s too wrung out to scream this time. She lets her head drop as her entire body shakes. She can feel Sirius coming inside of her, grinding his hips nice and deep as he does it, fucking them both through it. He doesn’t pull out until the aftershocks are starting to turn painful. Once he’s free of her, she practically collapses, dropping the mirror as her limbs go out from under her. He catches her, barely, before she face-plants into the mattress, guiding her down so that she’s comfortable.

Her whole body aches. She feels stretched out and sore. Sticky. She rolls onto her back, looking up at him through her lashes.

He’s gorgeous, all fucked out like this. She wants to keep him.

She holds out her hand to him, and he comes willingly, pressing her down onto the mattress. He kisses her softly, gently. She hums into it, stroking his hair with a trembling hand; both of them ignoring the mirror for the first time since James called. She meets his gaze when he draws back. He’s smiling at her – that warm and genuine look that’s usually reserved for her husband.

“Hi,” she whispers.

“Hey yourself,” he whispers back. “We should do this more often.”

She hums in agreement, nudging him to lie down next to her; stretching and shifting against him until she’s cuddled properly in his arms. It takes a moment and a soft “hellooooo?” from the mirror before he reaches out a hand and scrabbles for it amongst the pillows, holding it up so that both of them can see James.

“So, that was something,” James says after a moment’s pause. He looks so proud of them that Lily can’t help but giggle. Sirius makes this weird, half-snort half-cackle sort of noise that makes him sound like a Disney villain, and that only makes her laugh harder. He grips her tight against him, hand sliding up from her hip to her breast. He pinches her nipple and the sudden sting of pleasure-pain makes her laughter fade. She lifts her head to look at him properly, sees his smile, and she stretches slightly in his grasp – just enough to kiss him.

On the other side of the mirror, James gives a pleased hum. “Round two?” he suggests.

Lily pulls away, shooting him a mock glare. “Fuck off,” she says. “Let me _recover_.” She doesn’t move Sirius’ hand from her breast, though; instead she links their fingers together and tightens his grip on her. “I need a bath,” she informs them both.

Sirius nods in agreement. It goes unspoken between all of them that Sirius will probably join her. That he’ll clean her up and then fuck her all over again – this time without an audience. Her clit throbs at the thought of it – of Sirius. Of _more_ \- and she slides her leg over his hips. His cock twitches against her thigh.

“So, before Lily-flower goes and soaks for the next three hours,” Sirius says, “you called for a reason, right? Other than to watch us fuck.”

She looks at James curiously. He blinks at them owlishly for a moment, as if he’s completely forgotten what it was that he originally wanted. Then, “oh!” He sits bolt upright.

“Right, yes, I know,” he says. “I wanted to tell you I’ll be back next weekend.”

Earlier that day, the thought of another week with just Sirius in the house with her would have seemed like torture. Now, though, sated and sore and secure in his arms, she can think of nothing better. A whole week to learn each other before they welcome James back to their bed. Fuck, but she has _plans_.

“I’m sure we’ll survive your absence somehow,” Sirius says, his tone dry.

James snorts. “Whatever you say, Padfoot. Just remember to eat something, darlings. Love you both.”

“Love you too, honey,” she replies, Sirius echoing her just before the mirror turns blank. She studies their reflections for a moment – James was right, they _are_ pretty together – before Sirius drops it back onto the bed.

“So,” he says. “I know how I want to spend the week.” He gives her breast a little squeeze. She feels her belly tighten, heat pooling between her thighs again. A slower, more languorous warmth this time. 

She traces her fingers over the symbol for Pluto tattooed over his sternum. “I think, Sirius-dear, we’re in agreement,” she says. She leans in to kiss him again, soft and slow and sweet. 

“Oh, yeah,” he whispers when she breaks the kiss. “We definitely are.”


End file.
